Gone Fishing
It has taken me most of my adult life to finally understand how the stories my dad taught me as a child helped formulate my appreciation of the way storytelling connects us all. His best storytelling occurred when I was incredibly young while we were fishing on Lake Livingston, just north of Houston, Texas. Stories about learning to fly a Piper Cub two-seater airplane as a teenager; or learning to work with his hands from his father—a union carpenter during the Depression—all of these congealed the importance of paying attention when you’re young. By listening to the loons call out on the lakeshore or hearing the echo of laughter from teenagers playing frisbee onshore, that sound carrying across the calmness of still waters in the early morning hours before the jet skis or party barges polluted the quiet, Zen-like serenity of being on the lake at dawn. This helped reinforce how my dad’s storytelling taught me to listen with an open heart, and how to observe the world around me with an open mind. This “awareness” clearly helped form my beliefs that we are all connected, and that our storytelling is literally what connects us.
My dad taught me patience, perseverance, and resilience by spending time with me, which also taught me the value of engaging with the people you love so you’ll have a treasure trove of memories, dreams, and reflections to look back on for inspiration once they have passed on. When my mom passed away in 1999, I was already suffering from depression after an emotional breakdown in August of 1998 due to the stress of being my mom’s caregiver during the final years of her life. After three years of chemotherapy my mother’s condition worsened, and she finally died on June 15, 1999. She was sixty-six.
During the summer of 1998, to relieve the stress of dealing with my mother’s terminal cancer, I joined Francis Ford Coppola’s Zoetrope All-Story online writers’ workshop where scribes from all over the world could become members by reading five short stories or five screenplays posted by other members and offering feedback, so you could then post a story or screenplay of your own to receive feedback online from fellow writers. Not only was this a wonderful opportunity to receive insightful critiques from one’s peers, but it taught me how to give thoughtful, detailed yet succinct, constructive criticism. It was my first experience with the internet, and my first time joining with fellow writers in this or any online community.
But what happened next took decades to overcome. This is where the patience, perseverance, and resilience that my father taught me saved me from spiraling into despair and helped me to accept “what is,” and in fact, make it better. Therefore, by removing myself from the “hostile and combative” message boards on the Zoetrope All-Story website, I refused to participate in the status quo and instead spent the next twenty-five years putting myself through the school of life, watching old movies and reading everything I could get my hands on about Francis Ford Coppola, Stanley Kubrick, and George Lucas (including scores of biographies on each of them.) By learning the history of the movie industry and their place within it, I came to appreciate their films more than ever before. Whether you like their films or not, one thing remains true—all three of these filmmakers made their mark on the movie business by being independent auteurs as well as rebels within the studio system.
How does this pertain to me in the here and now? It not only informs me as to what is relevant in today’s world of extreme competition in getting one’s novels published or screenplays produced, but more importantly it reminds me how my favorite films, novels, short stories, and even songs are personal stories told in such a way as to honor the artist’s individual triumph, while couching it within the context of universal tenets of storytelling.
Why does this matter? If you look at the films of Kubrick, Coppola, and Lucas you can discern a theory of evolution from personal struggle into a broader scope of “struggle in the course of our nation’s history.” In this context, Coppola’s personal indie films like The Conversation (1974) can co-exist with his studio blockbuster films like The Godfather trilogy. The Conversation tells the story of how a surveillance expert struggles to unravel the killing of a young man who’s having an affair with the girlfriend of a huge corporation’s director, while at the same time in our nation’s history, surveillance experts succeeded in uncovering the Watergate scandal leading to Nixon’s resignation, also in 1974. Likewise, The Godfather films detail the history of the Mafia’s association with Hollywood and with Cuba, as well as the US government’s involvement with the mafia and Castro.
For Kubrick’s take on the absurdity of our political system, he turned to humor as the only logical reaction to the insanity of the Cold War’s arms race and created Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb. That this film can co-exist with 2001: A Space Odyssey is a testament to Kubrick’s keen eye for allegory and subtext, illustrating man’s warlike and destructive tendencies to mimic the apes in 2001: A Space Odyssey’s opening sequence, where their discovery of using bones to make tools directly results in the apes killing each other in mortal combat. Perhaps this may be oversimplifying things a bit, yet the metaphor is morbidly apparent.
Likewise, Lucas’s dystopian film, THX 1138, can co-exist with American Graffiti’s comedic coming-of-age metaphors because as a filmmaker, Lucas recognized the “unacceptable” circumstances of our government’s evolution from democracy to plutocracy or oligarchy, but his own ethics prevented pessimism and paranoia from overtaking his work. So, he created a humorous look back at his youth, because comedy was the most logical progression from his earlier rebellion against the dystopian seizure of the “future” of America by Big Business, aka Big Brother. All of this creates a framework of an allegorical, tongue-in-cheek subtext where laughter overrides anger at the absurdity of the modern world.
Which brings me back to my initial love of fishing with my dad. In 1998 when I first discovered Francis Ford Coppola’s literary journal, Zoetrope All-Story, the first story I read in it was Melissa Bank’s, “A Girl’s Guide to Hunting and Fishing.” I immediately fell in love with her self-effacing tone and sincere voice, (hilariously adroit at describing being single and female in America.) I also found Nora Ephron’s romantic comedies to be equally appealing and entertaining. What this translates to for me is: escaping into romantic comedies became my “survivalist” response to things like how the Citizens United decision reshaped campaign finance law in the United States and how horrifying this was to my youthful naivete and idealism about democracy.
What specifically does this mean?
On January 21, 2010, the Supreme Court’s Citizens United v. FEC ruling set the stage for larger and larger sums of money to pour into our electoral system. In the ruling, “a majority of justices made clear that they viewed outside spending on election ads as free speech that didn’t present any serious danger of corruption.” (Vox, “The Citizens United era of money in politics, explained,” by Andrew Prokop, July 15, 2015.)
Enter Super-PACs and the wholesale “buying” of our government by wealthy individuals and corporations. Leading up to things like the eventual overturning of Roe v Wade and the banning of books in our schools which discuss race relations or the realities of LGBTQ+ issues. And especially this Administration, which appears to promote the wholesale buying of the federal government and the dismantling of our democracy by billionaires, whose roles as significant donors or even as unelected appointees, have resulted in an unfettered oligarchy which favors tax cuts for the wealthy over aid for people who need help.
In addition, it saddens me to see how public offices can be nabbed by dishonest, self-serving individuals like George Santos, who basically lied his way into office, unabashedly refusing to step down even after being charged with 23+ federal felonies like campaign finance fraud, identity theft, and numerous other legal and ethical infractions. The most egregious offense by Santos in my opinion remains that he convinced his fellow GOP Congressional Members not to censor or remove him due to their fear of losing his seat in the closely divided House of Representatives. Until at last his crimes were so blatant he was kicked out of Congress.
Why do I care?
Because we are better than this. Human beings are smarter than this. We have been anesthetized by the “comforts” of scrolling Tik Tok or posting reels on Instagram about how wonderful our lives are.
Don’t get me wrong, I fully believe that life is quite wonderful. And, thanks to social media and its incredible power to connect us, the potential for human greatness and achievement is far more accessible by more people now than ever before in any era.
But so too is the potential for corruption. For example, in 2020, lies were spewed by a sitting president and reiterated by news conglomerates like Fox News, simply to ensure high ratings and sell more ads, even though Fox’s own journalists and “on air personalities” (in text messages between themselves) doubted the validity of the content they reported and broadcasted as facts. When Fox News lost the lawsuit brought by Dominion Voting Systems for reporting the lies that the 2020 Presidential Election was rigged and mired by fraud, it cost Fox Corp. a record high $787.5 million for their settlement with Dominion Voting Systems over defamation charges.
The takeaway is that it’s all just a numbers game. What are businesses willing to spend or “settle for” in order to feed the “news frenzy” that nets them billions of dollars in advertising revenue and unbridled political control? Is this why Meta has now removed its fac- checking protocol? Or was this done simply to curry favor with the newly elected President?
Yes, it’s a numbers game. Motivated solely by profitability and power.
But personifying integrity, honesty, and a true code of ethical behavior isn’t just a game. It’s something of value we must strive to maintain and preserve at all costs. We the people have the power to elect a Congress who can impeach presidents and other politicians who break the law. We must care enough about our society and the world we are leaving behind for future generations, to think beyond just the glow of the immediate. Beyond how many “likes” our most recent photos and posts just got on social media. Beyond the world as it currently “is,” and instead start thinking in terms of how the world “can be” in the future. For instance, do we really need to buy detergent in non-recyclable plastic bottles when buying laundry sheets in bio-degradable packaging is a better option? Everything we buy matters.
Everything we think, say, and especially everything we do matters. We need to be intentional about our actions and the delicate balance of life on our planet before it is gone—like life on Mars. We are only beginning to find evidence of previous life on Mars in materials harvested by the Mars rovers and their images beamed back to Earth to be analyzed. Will scientists uncover evidence that life on Mars was destroyed by its inhabitants and their effects on their environment, much like the way planet Earth has been impacted by human activities which cause or contribute to climate change? All of this matters immensely.
The traditions and bonds of families and societies matter. They matter in that they contribute to building core character strengths that ensure that humanity will survive.
How does this relate to storytelling?
Like this: stories create metaphors by which we can live. They create context for understanding “what is” and how best to deal with it. Stories give us a framework for not only surviving, but for thriving. A framework for lifting each other up, instead of tearing each other down or destroying other people, places, or things around us: like our tendency to destroy animals, nature, and the environment with our unchecked consumerism. Stories allow us to see connections that exist in the world around us, and these stories help keep us connected to the Universe and our undeniable place therein.
Stories give us meaning and purpose. Stories give us hope. And these stories have their earliest origins in ancient homo sapiens passing knowledge and wisdom on to their offspring. The same type of knowledge and wisdom I found when listening to my dad tell me stories while fishing together on Lake Livingston. This framework of remembrance is intricately embedded in storytelling. It is also undeniably our lifeblood— a record of our past, and roadmap for our collective future.
This is why stories matter. Books, plays, films, poetry, and songs are more than just escapism. We are our stories. We are each other.
And we are all connected.
Melissa L. White
Melissa L. White is a screenwriter, novelist, short story writer, and essayist. Her work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best American Essays. Her screenplay, “Cornelius and Willow,” won BEST DRAMA SCREENPLAY at the Culver City Film Festival in December 2024. Her screenplay, “Golden Gate Blues,” won BEST ADPATED SCREENPLAY at the Marina del Rey Film Festival in LA in June 2024. Melissa’s thriller screenplay “Recovering Sky,” won BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY at the Golden State Film Festival in Hollywood, March 2024. Her script about the life and work of Georgia O’Keeffe, “BLACKNESS OF SPACE, WHITENESS OF BONES,” won the GRAND PRIZE – BEST FEATURE SCREENPLAY at the Silicon Beach Film Festival in Sept. 2023, as well as eleven other awards including FINALIST at the Catalina Film Festival in 2023. And her essay, “Can AI Learn How it Feels to Cry?” won 2nd Prize in the Writer’s Digest Essay Contest in August 2023.
Publications:
Magnets and Ladders Literary Journal, October 29, 2024, Nonfiction – “Can AI Learn How It Feels to Cry?” https://www.magnetsandladders.org/#can-ai-learn-how-it-feels-to-cry-nonfictionby-melissa-l-white
Storyhouse.org Literary Journal, July 9, 2024, Short Story, “A Thousand Desires,” https://storyhouse.org/melissaw9.html
Storyhouse.org Literary Journal, November 23, 2023, Short Story, “Hands Up! Don't Shoot!” https://storyhouse.org/melissaw7.html
Ariel Chart International Literary Journal, November 14, 2023, Short Non-Fiction Essay, “Life Force Storytelling,” https://www.arielchart.com/2023/11/life-force-storytelling.html
Ariel Chart International Literary Journal, February 1, 2023, Short Non-Fiction Essay, “Thank You, George Lucas,” https://www.arielchart.com/2023/02/thank-you-george-lucas.html
Ariel Chart International Literary Journal, January 14, 2023, Short Non-Fiction Essay, “Thank You, Mr. Lucas, and Serena Williams,” https://www.arielchart.com/2023/01/thank-you-mr-lucas-and-serena-williams.html
Tags:
Short Nonfiction